clouds & poems
First order of business this morning, an occasional task, clear dozens of extraneous icons from laptop desktop. Have not yet opened email, though yesterday I subscribed (except for AAA, who remind me every year, all my subscriptions are free because general web practice is to get your subscription and credit card and, knowing you'll forget it and not notice, automatically renew every year unto the ages of ages) lost antecedent again, subscribed to a poem a day and looking forward to finding out whether it's real or doggerel. This came about from looking at Emily Dickinson online. I like some of Dickinson, overall whose poetry reveals an obsession with death. Shy, withdrawing Emily would never have worn a bikini to the beach.
More weather watching last evening as a dark black cloud moved over StAndrewsBay from the east, interesting with ongoing rumbles of thunder as it approached, little lightning except a couple of startling streaks. As from early summer I no longer appreciate lightning, now finding it fascinating maybe like unto watching a horror movie. Anyway, the dark black cloud was quite low, so low at one point that, as seen from 7H, the rotating military airport beacon at TAFB lit up the bottom of the cloud. And then we watched as a large military jet circled in under the cloud's blackness, its white tail light lighting up the cloud just above it as it moved above us, low, slow and close enough for us clearly to see the landing gear, heading in to land.
Clearing my computer desktop, I did come across this poem, saved for some forgotten reason, which no longer speaks of America's welcoming warmness. "Give me your ..."
Now immigrant-phobic, we think this is our land. But we are fools, we stole this land, this land belongs to every Native American, not at all to us. Or perhaps the titleholder is Divine.
There was more I wanted to say to myself this morning, that I'll add as I sit out here on 7H porch having breakfast: the other half of last night's supper: tomato sandwich on ww toasted, this morning a triangle of extra sharp cheddar cheese added and the bits trimmed from the cheese set into Ritz crackers; black coffee.
Yesterday I read Abp Vigano's eleven-page open letter, which he billed as Testimony, some web info on Carlo Maria Vigano, and the report of the man who edited his letter into final form and published it. Indeed, the Pope said to read it and make up your own mind, so I have done. There's alarming but not surprising information in the letter. Terrible charges against an American cardinal who has since resigned though not been laicized, but also a knowledgeable indictment of the RC Church as a whole. Vigano's stuff demands investigation and the Church, if verified, either run out of town or swept clean with new brooms. As for Vigano himself, he seriously discredits himelf with his arrogantly self-righteous hatred, virulent homophobia. He mistakes (I have the impression Vigano could not possibly see himself making a mistake, an unmistakable sign of narcissism) he mistakes pedophilia for homosexuality. So his "testimony" is tainted. But the essence of his charges totally warrant attention of both ecclesiastical and civil criminal authorities. Vergano's letter, English translation, is easily available online. Vigano is clearly a self important little man, another indication of his narcissism, who is bitter, bitter because his Church career stopped at two-star rank when he feels entitled to his third star: had Archbishop Vigano, who never had a parish or a diocese but only been a beaucratic administrator, been given his red hat as a cardinal none of this would ever have been written.
T
More weather watching last evening as a dark black cloud moved over StAndrewsBay from the east, interesting with ongoing rumbles of thunder as it approached, little lightning except a couple of startling streaks. As from early summer I no longer appreciate lightning, now finding it fascinating maybe like unto watching a horror movie. Anyway, the dark black cloud was quite low, so low at one point that, as seen from 7H, the rotating military airport beacon at TAFB lit up the bottom of the cloud. And then we watched as a large military jet circled in under the cloud's blackness, its white tail light lighting up the cloud just above it as it moved above us, low, slow and close enough for us clearly to see the landing gear, heading in to land.
Clearing my computer desktop, I did come across this poem, saved for some forgotten reason, which no longer speaks of America's welcoming warmness. "Give me your ..."
Now immigrant-phobic, we think this is our land. But we are fools, we stole this land, this land belongs to every Native American, not at all to us. Or perhaps the titleholder is Divine.
There was more I wanted to say to myself this morning, that I'll add as I sit out here on 7H porch having breakfast: the other half of last night's supper: tomato sandwich on ww toasted, this morning a triangle of extra sharp cheddar cheese added and the bits trimmed from the cheese set into Ritz crackers; black coffee.
Yesterday I read Abp Vigano's eleven-page open letter, which he billed as Testimony, some web info on Carlo Maria Vigano, and the report of the man who edited his letter into final form and published it. Indeed, the Pope said to read it and make up your own mind, so I have done. There's alarming but not surprising information in the letter. Terrible charges against an American cardinal who has since resigned though not been laicized, but also a knowledgeable indictment of the RC Church as a whole. Vigano's stuff demands investigation and the Church, if verified, either run out of town or swept clean with new brooms. As for Vigano himself, he seriously discredits himelf with his arrogantly self-righteous hatred, virulent homophobia. He mistakes (I have the impression Vigano could not possibly see himself making a mistake, an unmistakable sign of narcissism) he mistakes pedophilia for homosexuality. So his "testimony" is tainted. But the essence of his charges totally warrant attention of both ecclesiastical and civil criminal authorities. Vergano's letter, English translation, is easily available online. Vigano is clearly a self important little man, another indication of his narcissism, who is bitter, bitter because his Church career stopped at two-star rank when he feels entitled to his third star: had Archbishop Vigano, who never had a parish or a diocese but only been a beaucratic administrator, been given his red hat as a cardinal none of this would ever have been written.
T